"How long she must have been in heaven. I wonder if she'll know our baby is named after her?"
The little Nellie soon began to find her way into their hearts. Nannie and Belle loved to sit and hold her, very carefully; and even Jack would step softly, and not slam the door quite so hard, when told that little Nellie was asleep,—though he did say, "He wished people would be as particular when he was asleep, and not make such a racket in the morning."
So for three short weeks the little bud shed its perfume, making happy those around it; then—oh, how often comes that then in human life!—then it withered.
The children stepped softly about, or sat in silence round the fire, while the baby lay in their mother's arms panting for breath; and when all was still, and they saw their father lay the little form in the crib, and close the eyes, they knew that it was dead.
Sadly passed that evening. Dr. Merry was absent to see some patients, and sister Mary was in the room with their mother. The children gathered round the fire, and talked in low, subdued voices, for death was new to them.
"How strange," said Nannie, "that our little baby should die before old Grannie Burt, who has been waiting so long."
"Aunt Nellie will know now that she was named for her," said Belle.
"And perhaps," said Nannie, "she will teach her about everything there." So they talked of heaven and heavenly things. The little baby's death had not been in vain. Belle and Jack both thought more of another world than they had ever done before, and in each a little voice whispered, "Am I ready for heaven?"